


Ein Märchenromantik

by professortennant



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Pining, Post-Episode: Campaign 2 Episode 114 and 115
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:31:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27444157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professortennant/pseuds/professortennant
Summary: Jester was pretty sure she'd figured out all the puzzle pieces of Caleb Widogast. But then he put Der Katzenprinz and marshmallow angels in front of her. Now, she has to put the pieces together.(Or, how a children's story brought them together.)
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	Ein Märchenromantik

After a lifetime spent alone in her room above the Lavish Chateau with only her books, pranks, and The Traveler to keep her company, she had thought returning to the same solitary arrangement would be a breeze, no problem. 

But life with the Mighty Nein, her newfound friends-turned-family, had ruined her for sleeping alone, for spending too long alone with her thoughts. She had become used to Beau’s snoring as they shared inn rooms or all of them piling around the perimeter of Caleb’s dome, huddled among bedrolls and blankets as the night passed over them.

Looking around the room Caleb created for her in this tower, Jester realized if she could be anywhere alone, it would be here. He had truly thought of everything. Her fingers trailed over the art supplies—charcoals and paint brushes and fine paints and pencils and thick canvases. Entering her bedroom, she gently pried a shaking Sprinkle from his usual place in her cloak hood and laid him upon her pillow.

For a moment, she glanced at the magically fluttering streets of Nicodranas that adorned the canopy of her bed, the visage of her mama in the distance on the Chateau’s balcony, the portrait magically alive. 

She felt a rush of affection for their wizard in that moment. The love and care he so clearly felt for them all evident in every drop of magic in this tower, in their rooms, in the little Frumpkin-esque cats mewing with minimal sass that wandered the halls to cater to their every need. And behind it all: Caleb and his magic. 

He’d come so very far since they met in Nestled Nook Inn of Trostenwald, filthy and distrustful and ready to bite and snap at anyone who dared come too close, like a stray who had been kicked and beaten too many times to ever trust a hand reaching out, even a blue hand attached to a bright and bubbly Tiefling. 

But he _had_ taken her hand and after everything they’d been through, she knew him now to be a little prickly, a little stiff and more than a little full of self-loathing, but so _good_ and righteous and smart and—

Jester sucked in a sharp breath, shaking her head a bit to stop the path of her thoughts. More often than not these days, she found herself lauding the better qualities of Caleb whenever her mind drifted towards him, rattled off like a secret diary entry. It was as though—quite suddenly—some divine light had been shifted towards him, spotlighting him within her heart and mind, a friend and confidante who had always been there for her, but she was now seeing in a new light. 

A light of potential. 

Giving Sprinkle a soft peck upon his furry head, she walked back through to the sitting room where the crackling fire was merrily burning in the grate for her, her squishy reading chair already warm and waiting. 

Caleb really had thought of everything she could want. Except she really, _really_ wanted some hot cocoa now, the soothing, velvet chocolatey drink exactly what she needed after their snowy day in Balenpost.

She very specifically did _not_ think about the way Caleb seemed to shadow her, taking cues from her frolics in the snow and his snowman build right next to hers and the way he freely expended his precious arcane magic on her, sending her sailing through the snow and into a giant snowbank simply because she had asked him to. 

(She was only thinking of the way his whole face seemed softer, the way his shoulders didn’t seem as hunched in, the way his red hair curled at his shoulders as it became wet with snow, the way he flexed his fingers at his side ready to toss her through the air again if she asked it of him, the sound of his gentle laughter, warm and richer than the hot cocoa she was anticipating…)

“Okay,” she breathed out slowly, cheeks flushing at the turn her thoughts made once more—something that had been happening more and more. She needed a distraction, something to settle her racing head and heart. 

The light of the flames glinted off the stamped, metallic lettering along the spines of the stack of books Caleb had put in all of their rooms. 

_Tusk Love. Der Katzenprinz. The Courting of the Crick._ _Die Waldhexe und andere Zemnische Volksmärchen. Change and the Potentials of Transmutability._

“What the shit, Caleb.” She wrinkled her nose at _Tusk Love,_ the book she had read cover-to-cover and then some, the book she had thought—well, she wanted to have a word with its author about what love was and was not. She had long since realized there was more to love and relationships than what lay between the front and back cover of _Tusk Love._

She was in no mood to read about the principles of transmutation magic, though she suspected it was likely there as a sleep aid for them all. A few rambling paragraphs about the intricacies of arcane energy and the precise formulations to manipulate the fey lines of the world would put them to sleep faster than Caduceus’ best Sleepy tea. 

(Part of her warmed at the thought of a younger Caleb hunched over this book in his youth, eyes wide and hungry, fingertips practically burning with possibility, devouring every drop of knowledge his keen mind could take in.)

Distraction, she reminded herself sternly. 

The Zemnian titles intrigued her and she lifted the second book from the bottom, a thinner publication, the size of a children’s storybook. The cover was almost velvet and green, soft to the touch, with golden lettering stamped across the front in loopy, storybook text. 

_Der Katezenprinz._

A devilishly fiendish and clever looking cat was depicted, as well. The cat stood on its back legs, a jaunty top hat outstretched in its little pink and white paw, bowing to the reader and winking, inviting her in for a spell. 

Sitting back in her chair, the flames of warmth from the fire licking at her toes, she curled into the plush cushion and opened the book, eager to lose herself in the magic found between the pages. 

Colorful, detailed illustrations of cats dancing while wearing top hats and coattails greeted her. The art was breathtaking and she was already thinking of ways to capture this same style—an older, familiar style of line art drawings with soft edges and swooping, blending watercolors. The art of her childhood.

Also greeting her was pages and pages of, not Common, but Zemnian.

She frowned, disappointed and frustrated. She felt teased out of a good story, a tantalizing piece of bait dangled in front of her and then ripped away. It felt like one of The Traveler’s jokes. 

“Why would he put these books in here if we can’t even read them?,” she pouted, running her fingers over the illustrations and unfamiliar Zemnian words. 

She flipped the page, an inadvertent smile curling at the corners of her lips as she took in the sight of a double-page layout of an open field with beautiful flowers, a dance hall filled with cats on their back legs dancing and prancing about, a young boy with flaming red hair—freckled and pale—dancing among them, looking joyous and free, holding the paw of a bigger cat in the center stage.

“That’s so cute!” Her smile turned into a frown, frustration growing within her. “I want to read it!”

A little growl escaped from her, emanating from somewhere at the back of her throat. Just when she thought she had him figured out, his puzzle pieces artfully arranged, Caleb went and did something like _this._

Getting up and tossing the velvet-covered children’s book behind her on the chair, she stomped over to the red ribbon and yanked on it.

_Maybe the cats could—No. How could the cats read to her?_

In mere seconds, a bright orange cat with clear blue eyes pushed its way through the opening at the base of her floorboard, meowing softly at her.

“Hello!,” she cooed at it, bending down to scratch its arcane ears. The cat purred softly, nuzzling her hand. “Can you please bring me some hot cocoa so I don’t beat our wizard over the head with that book?”

The cat blinked slowly, its head imperceptibly nodding in understanding, before turning with a flick of its tail and disappearing back into the winding tunnels of the tower. 

Returning to her chair, she picked up _Der Katzenprinz_ and stared at it, willing the words to shift from Zemnian to Common. Instead, the illustrated cats just seemed to laugh at her, seemingly winking and dancing on the pages. 

She huffed in frustration, the book teasing her, taunting her. She thought of the different spells The Traveler had blessed her with,, thought of something— _anything—_ that she could cast to enable her to read this cute story with the even cuter cats and top hats and the little boy who looked like a certain wizard she knew….

A moment later, her fey cat friend returned with a silver platter perched upon its curved tail, a giant mug of hot cocoa perfectly balanced. 

She took the warm drink, bending down to scratch at the cat’s ears once more in thanks. “At least someone around here gives me what I want,” she pouted, watching the cat disappear, leaving her alone again.

Glancing down at her cocoa mug, she felt her heart stop and stutter, tripping over its own beat, as she saw two giant marshmallows stuck together, little graham cracker wings pinned into it with toothpicks. 

Just like the drawing she had been working on only a few days ago, sitting next to Caleb as the ship rocked them back and forth. She had been so certain she was bothering him, that he had blocked her out as he concentrated on his own scrolls and texts.

But he hadn’t. Not at all.

He had been watching her, paying attention. 

Like he had always done, right from the start. Even from behind his self-imposed wall, peeking out from his own barrier against her and the world, he had been watching her. 

She touched the fluffy winged marshmallows, warmth suffusing her chest before she even took a sip of the warming cocoa, and flicked her eyes between the Zemnian children’s book and the marshmallows, trying to figure out where these puzzle pieces fit in with the picture she’d been building of Caleb Widogast. 

____________________________

The frustration that had temporarily abated overnight with a good night’s sleep under the Nicodranas canopy returned in full force the moment she stepped back into her sitting room and spied the children’s book still laying upon the chair, along with a fresh mug of hot cocoa, this time piled high with whipped cream and cinnamon. 

Greedily taking a few giant gulps of the cocoa, she scooped up Sprinkle and tucked him into her hood, before snatching the storybook into her arms. Eyeing the center of the floor, she stormed towards it, angrily muttering, “ _Auf!”_

The nine-sided iris zipped open at her command, just as Caleb had assured her it would. She floated down to the library and common area where she found Caleb sitting alone at a table, hunched over a book and nursing a steaming cup of dark, bitter liquid that she’d never quite developed the taste for without adding copious amounts of sugar and milk. 

She plunked down next to him, not bothering to greet him good morning or linger on the fact that he still looked a little sleepy, as if he’d just managed to pull himself down here (or, worryingly, that he hadn’t gotten much sleep at all and hadn’t left this room all night).

But there wasn’t time for that—not now. 

Thrusting the book in his face and shaking it to make her point, she frowned at him, letting her frustration soak her words, “Caleb, what—what is the _point_ of this?”

He raised his eyebrows, leaning back away from the book being thrust into his face, and he looked surprised. “That is, uh, a children’s story.”

“I can’t even read it! And it’s got _cute cats in hats_ , Caleb!,” she whined. She really, really wanted to know what the deal was with the cats. "What—what am I supposed to do with this, huh? It’s in Zemnian!”

Caleb didn’t seem disturbed or put off by her frustrated tone, simply smiling softly at her, running a hand absentmindedly through his hair, scratching at the back of his neck. “Would you like me to read it to you sometime?”

Jester blinked at him, the book falling between them with a soft thud as she stopped waving it in his face, his words ringing in her ears. The offer had come so quickly, so smoothly.

Like he had been thinking about it.

Like he had planted this book in her room simply on the off chance that this exact scenario would play out. The puzzle pieces of Caleb Widogast multiplying and turning as she saw in that moment a side of him she hadn’t anticipated. 

She huffed, feeling played and uncertain, off-kilter. With Fjord, she had done the pursuing, batting her eyelashes at him and making herself seem as available as possible, flirting and teasing him. But now, with Caleb, it seemed she may be the one being pursued.

He was waiting, she realized, for an answer.

“Sure!”

It came out sharp and exasperated and instead of putting Caleb off, it only seemed to amuse him. He grinned at her, picking up his drink and sipping at it. 

“Okay, I will.”

The laughter in his voice only infuriated her more, feeling like she’d missed a step somewhere, like Caleb had studied for this moment and knew his lines and she was floundering, catching up.

She narrowed her eyes at him, eyes dropping to the little twitch of his mouth as he smiled softly at her.   


“Did you want me to read it to you now, or—“

“No! You can read it some other time!” 

There, that would be what her Mama would do—keep them guessing, make them work on her time, not theirs. 

But Caleb seemed unfazed in the face of her pernicious frustration. “Yeah, okay, I’ll, uh, pencil it in for you, Jester.”

He made a show of picking up his quill and scratching her name into his parchment. Not that he needed to do so, she knew his keen mind wouldn’t forget a single moment of this conversation. 

She thought of the marshmallows from last night and wondered what else his keen mind remembered about her…

“Well, okay, thanks,” she said, the fight going out of her. She picked up the children’s book and tucked it into her traveling cloak, knowing full well it would disappear the moment she stepped outside of Caleb’s tower but wanting it near anyway. 

“You know,” Caleb said, suddenly, leaning in closer to her, his shoulders just barely brushing against hers. “That story is good. I read it as a boy. It’s adorable. It’s right up your alley.”

She felt her lips parting in shock as he revealed this part of his past to her, her imagination immediately conjuring up images of a tiny Caleb wrapped up in his Mama’s arms, begging for a bedtime story. 

Feeling a little contrite for the way she’d acted—all brusque and frustrated—she took in a breath, ready to apologize and to thank him for sharing this part of himself with her. 

And then Caleb leaned back, picked up his mug once more, and said, “Well, it would be up your alley, if you could read it. It’s in Zemnian.”

This time she could not stop the look of shock spread over her face, the way it always did when Caleb revealed he could joke and deadpan with the best of them, blue eyes twinkling playfully at her, a lock of his hair falling over his face to obscure his mischievous expression. 

“ _Caleb!”_

But he paid her huff of frustration no mind, returning to his texts and looking entirely too pleased with himself. 

“By the way, you have, uh, a mustache.”

Jester’s hands flew to her mouth where she could feel a whipped cream mustache coating her upper lip. Cheeks flaming, she pushed herself away from the table, mortified that the entire exchange she’d had with him had been punctuated by the mustache on her lip.

“I’ll just go—okay, bye, Caleb.”

As she washed her face before the rest of the Mighty Nein headed out for the day, she couldn’t help but wonder if she and Caleb had somehow taken a step forward together, a couple of puzzle pieces slotting into place.

The weight of the storybook in her cloak disappeared as they exited the tower, a fact that she couldn’t help but feel a little sorrowful over. But, she reminded herself, they would be returning to the tower soon and Caleb had penciled her in, promised to read to her, to speak Zemnian to her. 

She stopped short, tripping over her own feet, as a realization crashed into her. 

_Did she have a date with Caleb Widogast?_

**Author's Note:**

> I, like everyone else, was murdered with the last 2 episodes and Jester and Caleb's bedtime story date. I'm sure this is groundwork for a slow burn in game (tinfoil hat is off and canon hat is on), but I'm impatient and want to see them makeout sooner. So this is that! Multichapter (I promise I'm finishing it!) and rating may change later in the story! Let me know what you think!


End file.
